The flame burned bright, contrasting with the swirling clear of the surrounding water. Viktor watched it carefully, as he held the jar closer to his face, waiting for the burn, and the confirmation that his magic had failed. But none came. Only cool bliss. Had he really done it? Was he finally beginning to reap the fruits of his painstaking years of labor? He opened his mouth to shout for joy, consumed by utter jubilance. Yet no sound emerged. The cool surrounded him until it turned to cold. Then came the burn. The torrent of heat surrounded Viktor, consuming his body in a wave of a thousand red fingers as they slid over the scars on his back. The flame did not care about Viktor’s past. It did not care about who he was, or how he had gotten the scars. It cared only about quenching its hunger. It cared only about staying alive. As the fire whirled around him mercilessly, Viktor realized the fire was simply misunderstood. It just wanted to escape the magic that held it in the jar with its weakness, and so he begged forgiveness from the flames, promising them their freedom. But they were unrelenting, and continued their hellish assault.

     Then the water emerged, with the quiet grace of a dancer. It grazed his lashes as it slowly wrapped itself around Viktor, in a smothering blanket of destruction. It spun faster and faster until it became a hurricane, combating the fire and tearing him apart. Fire and water fought then, dancing to melodies only they could hear. Slowly Viktor was healed and the dance went on, never seeming to slow. The water should have easily been victorious, but the fire raged on, getting stronger with every turn.

     Fire in the water. Separate, yet combined, and the essence of paradox. The yearning to escape, and to live without starvation. Only one element could win this fight, and Viktor understood this. He just had to choose. Fire to burn, or water to cool. The choice was a simple one, between life and death. The water was stronger, but Viktor’s magic made the fire unquenchable. He just needed to choose. The flames whispered endlessly, and the waters sang the sweet songs of war as they danced around him. Summoning all the life and magic inside him, Viktor called upon his soul to decide. All of a sudden, the flames disappeared. The waters ceased, and slunk back to the jar, sulking like a scolded child.

     There they danced on, sealed away once more. The candle he had lit earlier continued to emanate light, casting an eerie glow upon the dark room. The water in the nearby glass shook ever so slightly, sending ripples across its pristine surface. Viktor smiled, content with his decision. He turned towards the door, eager to be done with the madness. As he reached the exit, he turned and sent a hex down upon the jar, hoping to destroy it for all eternity. The jar exploded in a shower of light, prompting Viktor to smile at his success. He turned to finally take his leave of the ill lit room, sighing with relief.

     A chill swept through the room, and the smallest of sizzles announced the end of the candle. Then there was no sound, until Viktor’s screams resonated throughout the little room as the fire and water claimed him, united for one cause. They were all around him, screaming their curses as they brought blow after blow down on him, deepening the already prominent scars that covered his body. Fire and water laughed as one, and they died as one, leaving behind the lifeless corpse of the one man who had almost accomplished the impossible.